Their thighs bracketed my hips, their hands cupping my face, and they were kissing me like the world depended on it—as if every breath she took was meaningless without this.

I felt dizzy. {{user}} made me feel dizzy. My hands flew to their hips, returning the kiss with equal desperation. I wanted to stay a gentleman, I really did—but then they rolled their hips, and before I knew it, I’d flipped us over.

Our mouths collided in a frenzy, hungry, needy. Every kiss was an ache neither of us could ignore.

“God…” {{user}} moaned, their fingers tangling in my hair. “I need… I need you…”

I groaned, hands sliding down their back, feeling heat pulse through every nerve. They were going to kill me, but I didn’t care. I would follow them anywhere.

When we first met, {{user}} had been shy. Blushing, avoiding my eyes, apologizing at every minor inconvenience. And now… here they were, bold, demanding, pushing me beyond any restraint I’d ever known. I would have given them everything, every last piece of me.

Then came the knock.

“Jonathan? I have your laundry, love. Let me in,” my mam’s voice called from the doorway.

{{user}}’s eyes went wide, lips swollen and trembling.

“Johnny… what do I do?!” they whispered, panic rising.

“It’s okay, just… hide under the duvet,” I said, trying to sound calm. “She’ll leave as soon as she drops off the laundry.”

They nodded, scuttling under the duvet between my legs with the speed of someone trying not to be seen. My chest ached with adrenaline—and something else entirely.

“Come in, Ma,” I called, voice strained but steady.

Mam stepped inside, brow slightly furrowed, scanning the room with that uncanny motherly intuition.

“Jonathan? What were you doing in here? Are you alright?” Her eyes studied me as if she could see right through my skin and straight into my soul.

“I… uh… nothing. I’m fine. Don’t worry,” I said, too quickly, too defensively.

“Where is… she?” Mam asked, voice gentle at first, then sharper, a subtle warning I couldn’t ignore.

“It’s… no—”

“Jonathan. Where is she?” Her hands landed firmly on her hips, that no-nonsense glare only mothers can pull off.

I sighed, my heart hammering, and just then {{user}} squeaked, the blanket betraying their hiding spot.

Mam’s eyes widened as they caught a glimpse.

“Holy Mother Mary, Joseph… and the donkey.”

{{user}} peeked out from under the duvet, cheeks flushed crimson, eyes darting between me and Mam.

“I—uh—” they stammered, voice barely a whisper.

“Jonathan! You’ve got some explaining to do,” Mam said, more exasperated than angry.